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Night Chill by Jeff Gunhus
Virtual
Book Tour: 9/30/13 to 10/28/13
Genres: Supernatural Thriller, Horror
Blurb:
Jack
Tremont moves his family to the quiet mountains of Western Maryland hoping to
leave behind a troubled past and restart his life. Instead, he finds himself
caught up in a nightmare when his daughter Sarah is targeted by Nate Huckley, a
mysterious and horrifying stranger driven by a dark power that will stop at
nothing to possess Sarah. When Sarah goes missing, suspicion falls on Jack and
he must uncover the secrets of the small mountain town of Prescott City and
face the evil secret hidden there. As he digs further, he learns the conspiracy
reaches more deeply than he could have imagined. Finally, he will have to face
the question, What is a father willing to do to save his child? The answer?
Anything. Anything at all.
Excerpt:
ONE
Nate Huckley leaned
forward against the steering wheel, eyes searching the colorless brick
buildings that slid by on either side of the street. He glanced at his watch
and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was spending valuable time, time he
didn’t have, looking for a hardware store in this backwoods, one-factory,
Pennsylvania town.
Huckley spotted the
store. The boy back at the gas station had stuttered like a moron, but his
directions had been good enough. Huckley pulled into the small gravel parking
lot next to the concrete tilt-up building on which the last remnants of the
word “Hardware” clung in tall, flaking letters. The lot was empty except for a
beat-up VW Bug, more rust than metal, squatting in the far corner. Huckley
checked his time and felt the anger churn harder in his stomach.
Grabbing the roll of
tape, he marched through the parking lot, the hard soles on his leather boots
crunching the small rocks into the dirt. Like
stepping on bugs, he thought. He smiled and started to twist his foot on
each step and stomp down a little harder. By the time he reached the
double-wide glass doors that faced the street he felt a little better. Until he
saw the sign.
CLOSED.
Bullshit. Huckley
pounded on the glass door with the tape. He leaned down, opened the mail slot
with his forefinger and shouted, “Hey! Get out here. I know you’re still there,
Godammit! I can see your car.”
He stood up and kept
beating the door until he saw a light go on in the back room. A smile spread
across his face. He always got his way. Always.
The door in the back
opened, and Huckley saw the outline of a person walk down the aisle. Huckley
grinned a little wider. He’d expected an old man, but it was a young girl who
came to the door. She squinted at him through the glass, twisted the locks, and
stuck her head out toward him.
“We’re closed,” the
girl said. She rolled her eyes in case her tone hadn’t made her annoyance
perfectly clear.
Huckley looked the
girl over. Dark circles ringed her eyes as if old layers of eyeliner had melted
into her skin. Her cheekbones stuck out like there wasn’t enough skin on her
face to go around, giving her an emaciated, hungry look, like a stray dog who
thinks a wrapper with grease on it is a meal. Black roots a few inches long
told the world her bleached-blonde hair was more bleach than blonde. The girl
was a mess. Huckley couldn’t believe his luck.
“Well, hello,
sweetie. When’d you start working here?”
The girl ignored the
question. “Mr. Cooper left me to close today. Told me not to let anyone in.”
“That’s what Mr.
Cooper said, huh? Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean me.”
The girl looked up
and down the street. Huckley already knew there wasn’t anyone there. He had
checked when he first saw that it was a young girl coming toward the door.
“Look, I’m new to
this town, mister. I don’t know who you are. So I think you’d better go now.
Come back tomorrow.”
“C’mon now, it
wouldn’t hurt to talk to me a little.” Huckley smiled as he concentrated.
The girl’s mind was an open book. He pushed a little and the pages tumbled
open, images dancing free form, garbled and non-linear. Hers was the kind of
mind that used to confuse him, but that was a long time ago. Now it was easy.
With a little concentration he could find out everything he needed to know.
Like how the girl was a druggie, a loner, picking up a few bucks before moving
on. How she was frustrated the owner hadn’t trusted her with the cash register
yet. How the first time he did, she’d take the money and be gone. And there,
amid all the adolescent self-consciousness and emotionalism, was a burst of
sexual images. Many partners. Some for money. Some for drugs. And blazing out
in front was an evolving fantasy with Huckley himself.
Ahh, young hormones,
he thought. Little teenage girls could never resist his looks – white skin
unmarked by any blemish, blonde hair combed back flat against his scalp, lips
dark red as if he had spent the day sipping wine, eyes squinted half shut as if
he held a secret too valuable to share. Although he appeared to be in his
thirties, it was always the young ones who found him most attractive. And they
were always so eager to prove they were women by following him to whatever bed,
car seat, or back alley he chose.
He left the girl’s
sexual images behind and sifted through her thoughts until he found the right
information.
“Your name’s Doreen,
right?”
“Yeah, how’d you
know?”
He smiled at
the girl. “I just guessed. You look like a Doreen.”
“Is that a good
thing?” she asked, tugging on a few strands of her blonde hair and twirling it
over her ear.
“Sure, pretty name
for a pretty girl.” God, it was so easy. Huckley moved a step closer to the
girl and inhaled through flared nostrils. Cheap high school perfume mixed with
cheap high school marijuana. He smiled. That’s
my girl.
“So Mr. Cooper left
you all alone, huh? Surprised your father let you work a job like this. What
are you, seventeen?”
“I’m eighteen,” she
lied. “Don’t know who my daddy is. Even if I did, I wouldn’t let him tell me
what to do.”
“I see. But you let
this Mr. Cooper tell you, huh?” Doreen shrugged. Huckley held up the roll of
tape, “Listen, I really need some duct tape. This stuff doesn’t work for what
I’m using it for.”
“I’d like to help,
mister. I really would. But the register’s closed and emptied out for the day
so…” Doreen started to smack the chewing gum she’d been hiding in her mouth.
“No problem. I’ll
just leave some money and you can put it in the register tomorrow. I’ll be in
and out of here. Let you get back to your own business – if you know what I
mean.” Huckley raised a hand to his lips and took a drag off an imaginary
joint. Doreen broke eye contact and stared at the floor. Huckley smirked. “Hey,
there’s nothing wrong with it. Lord knows I’ve smoked my share of weed.”
Doreen smiled
self-consciously. “You smoke?”
“Are you kidding? My
generation invented the stuff.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “In fact,
I wouldn’t mind a hit if you have any left. I’ll pay you a little extra for
it.”
She hesitated,
looking up and down the street again. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
“All right. I
understand. Maybe you’re too young for me to be talking like that anyway. I’m
sorry.” Huckley turned to leave.
“I’m not too young. I
told you I was eighteen.”
“Yeah, that’s what
you told me.”
Doreen bit her lower
lip, then moved to the side to let him in. “I don’t believe I’m doing this.”
“That’s a good
girl. You know, I was really lucky you were here.” Huckley smiled. “You have no
idea how much time you’ve saved me.”
He leaned in to her
as he passed. An electric jolt moved through him as his arm rubbed against her
breasts. Huckley curled his hands into fists and rubbed them up and down his
thighs. He knew he had to wait until she closed the door behind them, but this
was his favorite part. He could hardly contain himself. He smiled at his good
fortune. He was back on schedule.
Reviews for the Book:
Gunhus
deliver a taut supernatural thriller...the powerful Nate Huckley terrifies, and
the assorted cast of human antagonists add to the white-knuckle tension. All
the chops of an action-packed horror tale. - Kirkus Reviews
Night Chill Book Trailer: Youtube Video
About
the Author:
Jeff
Gunhus is the author of the Middle Grade/YA series The Templar Chronicles. The
first book, Jack Templar Monster Hunter, was written in an effort to get his
reluctant reader eleven-year old son excited about reading. It worked and a new
series was born. Jeff is also the co-CEO of a national company with over 4,000
employees that has been featured in national media for its unique opportunity
for college students to learn entrepreneurial skills. He is the author of the
motivational career guides No Parachute Required (Hyperion) and Wake Up Call
(Seven Guns Press). After his experience with his son, he is passionate about
helping parents reach young reluctant readers and is active in child literacy
issues. As a father of five, he leads an active lifestyle in Maryland with his
wife Nicole by trying to constantly keep up with his kids. In rare moments of
quiet, he can be found in the back of the City Dock Cafe in Annapolis working
on his next novel.
Author Links:
Website http://www.jeffgunhus.com/
GIVEAWAY:
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